One Snowy Winter's Eve
by Kora
Summary: Snowfights, frostbite, hypothermia and bad country music. What else can you ask for on a few precious snow days in the middle of the winter?
1. A war, a familiar couch, and a run for o...

Disclaimer—the characters of coach, petey, sunshine, and alan do not belong to me, they belong to Disney Clean Clean MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} 

_Disclaimer—the characters of coach, petey, sunshine, and alan do not belong to me, they belong to Disney. Now, for a little background into this story. It started out on Halloween, after jel and I had had a lot of sugar, and were bored online. I had a writing itch, but I didn't know what to write. From then, me'n jel's conversation went something like this:_

_Me: I still don't know what to write._

_Jel__: write about ryan getting hurt._

_Me: alright. _

_And__ that resulted in what you see before you now._

_So thanks Jel for the constant inspiration and help!_

The ice-cold snow stung the back of Alan's neck as it smacked into him. Whipping around with a light of vengeance in his eyes, Alan turned on his attacker. He raised his arm to throw the snowball only to be met with J copying his action. It was a stalemate: they both stood there, ready to launch their weapons at any second. Defiantly, they locked their eyes with equally daring glares.

The stalemate could have lasted forever had not a pair of white, wet, cold mounds of snow collided with Alan and J's chests. Their heads snapped around to glower at their attackers, Petey and Sunshine. The pair stood to the right, holding their sides with all their laughter. With a glance and a grim nod, J and Alan reached down and formed balls of snow and hurled them at the pair. Sunshine and Petey were hit in the face, and it was J and Alan's turn to laugh. At the next second, it was all-out war. Naught could be seen except for the occasional flash of J's blood red hair through the flurry of snow being hurled from the ground to the nearest body. Finally, they all called it quits as they were beginning to lose the sun.

Alan was on his way home when he slipped on a patch of ice and hit the ground hard. Then there was nothing.

***

The head injury wasn't really anything to worry about, for it wasn't that bad, especially compared to the other countless wounds Alan had endured. It was the frostbite that had everyone worried. No one was sure how long Alan had been lying out there, but it was certainly for hours. The worst part was, the phone lines were still down from the snowstorm, and their road hadn't been paved. The ambulance couldn't get through. Well, maybe for a serious emergency, and after crunching his way to the hospital to explain Alan's injuries, then being rejected for not having anything life-threatening (it was a busy time of year, apparently) Coach was near livid. It didn't help that Alan hadn't even woken up yet. He returned to J's house (for she was the one who found him, and Coach had headed off to the hospital as soon as he saw Alan in such condition) only to decide that it was probably better not to move Alan any further. So the unconscious boy got to get acquainted with J's couch.

***

For once, his headache upon waking up wasn't that bad. That was a change, a pleasant one in fact. Alright...why did he feel like a marshmallow? Alan opened one eye just enough to see the mound of blankets pilled on top of him. Alright, that explained that. Now...where was he? This room was familiar. In fact, this couch was familiar. It was J's couch. What was he doing on J's couch? Alan mentally shrugged; he'd find out soon enough. All he knew was that the last thing he remembered was walking home. Which meant that he'd gone and gotten himself hurt again. He wasn't in a hospital, which was a good sign. That meant less emotional stuff to deal with. But he'd still managed to get hurt. Alan wasn't surprised at his apathy; really, it was all routine now.

Alan quickly shut his eyes when he heard footsteps. He wasn't in the mood for being fussed over just yet. It was hard to keep his eyes closed, though, when he felt J's hand against his forehead. He knew that hand. How could he not know that hand? He heard her sigh and call to someone, presumably her father, in the other room. "It feels like his temp's gone down!"

"Good!," came the reply. Yup, it was Gregory. "Try massaging that arm some more, though, the book says to do that frequently." Wordlessly, J obliged, extracting Alan's arm from beneath the mountain of covers and rubbing it firmly. Not able to take it anymore, for fear he might burst out laughing, Alan allowed himself to stir. He opened his eyes to see J looking at him, surprised.

"Oh, you're awake! Did I wake you?" Alan was unable to form a word answer. A laugh popped out of his mouth and he couldn't stop. Startled, J ceased rubbing his arm. "Alan, what is it?" Able to calm, Alan answered her with a smile.

"That tickled." J rolled her eyes and shoved him playfully on the shoulder.

"Idiot. For a second there I thought you'd hit your head harder than we thought." J glared motherly at him for one second until both of them collapsed in laughter. When the body-shaking amusement finally faded, Alan sighed and asked,

"Alright, what did I do to myself this time?"

"You made Jel very happy," J answered.

"Jel? Who is this Jel you speak of?" Alan asked, a sick feeling growing in his stomach. 

"Why, the one that always beats you up," J answered, beginning to sound like one of those innocent villagers from Disney movies. Alan's eyes went huge and he pushed as far down into the couch as he could.

"NO!!! NOT HER!!! KEEP HER AWAY FROM ME! SHE'S MAD I TELL YOU, MAD! ABSOBALLYLUTLY MORBID!" He screamed and leapt from the couch and went running off into the night. Some time later, he was caught by men in white coats and was taken away. He currently resides in his nice blue-padded cell, with a twitching left eye. Constantly he mutters, "she's out to get me, OUT TO GET ME!" J goes to see him every Thursday, bringing him magazines and pudding.

The End.

_This came end came about when I sent Jel the sentence, "alright, what did I do to myself this time?" Jel wrote back, "you made jel very happy." I found that so hilarious that I just had to write it. Check out the next chapter for an alternate ending to the story._

_Oh and for those of you wondering, I do know that massaging frostbite only makes it worse.  Well, I didn't know that at the time that I read this story, but my awesome friend Skitch informed me of that.  In my Oregon Trail game, rubbing frostbite was listed as a cure, or at least I though it was…well I don't really wanna go back and change anything b/c the story worked out so well this way, so I figure maybe anyone reading could please just overlook that slight fact.  Thanks!_


	2. Chicken Noodle Soup and Bad Country Musi...

"Alright, what did I do to myself this time Clean MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} 

_Thanks go for this alternate ending once again to Jel, and to Skitch.  Thank you Jel for the continued help with this story (campell's soup mmm-mmm good!) and thanks to Skitch for the country music idea.  You guys rock! _

_This picks off right in the middle of the previous chapter, when alan asks j what he did to himself this time. _

"Alright, what did I do to myself this time?"

J tried unsuccessfully to hide an amused smile at Alan's nonchalantness and answered. "You slipped on your way home, hit your head, and were knocked out. Your head injury isn't that major, but it took us awhile to realize you were missing, then find you, so you were out there for a few hours. You have frostbite in your arm, and a mild case of hypothermia."

Alan chuckled and motioned towards his arm. "Hence the rubbing."

J rolled her eyes and shoved Alan again. "Typical you'd gravitate toward that. Well," she stood up and dusted off her pants for no apparent reason, "now that you're awake, you're doing the massaging yourself. I'm gonna go heat up some soup; we've gotta get some food in you." With that, she disappeared around the living room corner. Alan stared after hear, absentmindedly massaging his arm.

***

J balanced a bowl of chicken noodle soup (what else for a sick person?) and a tray in both her hands and slowly made her way back out to the living room where Alan sat. He was still following her orders while staring off into space and humming a familiarly nauseating tune. She managed to situate the tray and get the bowl down without spilling any soup. "There you go." She paused for a minute, then rolled her eyes. "Ugh, Alan, please, you're gonna get that stuck in my head."

Alan stopped in mid-hum. "Get what stuck in your head?" 

J pushed Alan's legs over to make room on the couch, forcing him to sit up. "You have to sit straight when you're eating or you're gonna make yourself even more sick. That horrible song. Alan, really, I love you, I do, but the country music's gotta go."

Alan swished his spoon around in the soup. "But...it's not THAT bad..." he trailed off when he caught J's disgusted look. "Alright...so maybe it is...but I can't help it."

J kicked him lightly with her shoeless feet. "What do you mean you can't help it? It's easy enough...I think it's time to introduce you to new kinds of music. It's time to let go."

Alan swallowed a lump of chicken, hard. "Really? Do you think I can? I don't know if I'm strong enough."

J placed her hands supportively on his shoulders and gazed at him seriously. "Yes you are. I know you are. And I can help you." She continued to stare, oh-so convincingly into Alan's face until both of them cracked up. Just then, Gregory poked his head into the room.

"You guys alright?" He was answered only with louder laughter. Shaking his head, Gregory walked up the stairs. "Kids..."

***

The next morning, Coach swung around and picked up Alan. The roads in their development were clear enough now for a minimal amount of traffic, but not enough for schools to re-open. Consequently, J was bored. Well, by the afternoon she was bored. An entire morning filled with whipping guys' butts at snow wars got dull, and besides, it just wasn't the same without Alan to pummel mercilessly with snowball after snowball.

So it wasn't long before J ended up at Coach's. Yoast let her in, informing her that last he'd checked (about an hour ago) Alan was still asleep, but she was welcome to go in and check again if she chose. That J did. She cracked open the door in Alan's room to find him half-sitting, half-laying in his bed. His eyes were focused on the window, but it was clear his mind was elsewhere. "Got a case of cabin fever?" she asked, announcing her presence.

Alan's head whipped around at the sound of her voice. He managed only to give her a weak smile in return. Immediately J's face softened. She walked softly over to Alan's bed and sat down on it next to him, feeling his forehead with her hand. "Well, you don't have a fever...how are you feeling?" Alan looked up at her and shrugged. J shook her head at him. "That doesn't help. Does your arm hurt at all? What about your head? Are you achy anywhere?" Alan just shrugged again.

J frowned and squeezed his hand. "What's wrong? You seemed to be getting better last night. What happened?" She studied Alan's face closely, then reached over to the other side of his bed, grabbed a pillow, and whacked him with it. "Jerk!" she exclaimed, laughter in her voice. "Acting this entire time so you get your girlfriend to fawn over you, right?" Alan's only reply was another smile, and a returning smack with a pillow. Soon an all-out war followed. J's war cries and Alan's laughter could be heard clearly all the way downstairs. Coach glanced up from the book he was reading and shook his head to himself. "Kids..."

The End

_Alrighty__, I hope that you had as much fun reading this as I had fun writing it.  and do you know what would be a lot of fun too?  Reviewing!  Yaaay!  So c'mon kids, let's all review!!  Or I'll sing the review song…and believe me, you don't wanna hear me sing…_


End file.
